Dissapointed in the DITCH

Yesterday was the highlight of the Swedish Calendar Year, Midsummer Eve. We were invited to spend it with the same friends we partied with just a week ago. Remember that 40th birthday party where I found my long lost porcelain BFF? Well the tables have turned folks.

A few families gathered with their kiddies to begin the drunk fest, feasting on traditional Swedish fare: Pickled Herring, Johnsson's Delight (a potato casserole to DIE FOR), hard bread, meatballs, little cocktail weiners and a host of carb-filled delights. And that was just lunch. Oh and in between mouthfuls of goodness, you flush it down with schnapps. I can't count the variety of alcoholic beverages I consumed between the hours of 12:30 and 9:30pm. And then the troupe of us intoxicates (new word alert) proceeded to walk/bike/stumble through the woods with kids in tow to the local May Pole to continue the party with the entire neighbourhood. 45 minutes later, we all arrived with mandatory cooler of assorted alcohol, coffee and cake.

Now I don't know who believes it's a good idea to hike while drunk. But I do know who believed it was a fantabulous idea to ride a bicycle after drinking at least 5 little bottles of schnapps with a few cans of beer (after having NOT ridden a bicycle in well over 30 years), while FILMING and chatting to passer-bys. I remarked to a friend after this idiot almost ran me over, "Now THAT is an accident waiting to happen." 5,4,3,2,1...
A scream followed by...
Bicycle with the father of our children in the ditch. Laughter mixed with shock followed by a quick sprint up to the site of the devastation to watch my stumbling man proceed to rise up and brush himself off. Taking stock, we quickly observed his white pants turn crimson. Investigation showed some severe knee scrapage bordering on stitches. Moms are not-so-surprisingly inventive and we proceeded to tie together baby wipes as a makeshit turniquet bandage. Despite the knee carnage, the source of the pain actually emanated from his arm where some horrible stinging weed had taken hold and was burning his skin. Yup, he managed to fall not-so-gracefully into a killer bush whose leaves are known to burn.

His excuse was a dead bird on the trail. "But there was a DEAD BIRD!" How about drinking and bicycling and videoing all at the same time?

Scarred but slightly sobered hubby rejoined the gang and was punished by being forced to walk another few kilometers to the site. Our brigade arrived just as the music and festivities stopped. All that for almost nothing. He moaned on endlessly: "Where are the pole dancers? You promised me POLE DANCERS!" We ate cake, we drank some more and we eventually got back up to make the long trek back.

Ahhhh....sweet justice. What goes around, come around. Now it was my turn to play DISSAPOINTED spouse. Though my version is a lot less nasty as I changed his dressing and took great pleasure in squeezing half a bottle of peroxide on the wound.

We ate more, we drank more and by 9 is was time to go. I was a little fuzzy headed but otherwise not anywhere near my state from the last weekend. After all, I am a Mom first...ha! And Dad was in bed and snoring by 10:30 as I updated my facebook status and surfed soberly before calling it a day.

Did I fail to mention there is a first-person video to go along with this story? A gift from me to you. Happy Midsummer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ya0dqs6bQwE

Weigh-in Wednesday: Week 3 of 10

Well, I didn't manage to escape my 1 evening of excess alcohol consumption and 1-day Carb Fest unscathed. The scales have tipped to the low 73s again. F-word. But I was not and am not deterred. I picked myself up off the bathroom floor, wiped myself down and climbed back over to my makeshift exercise mat. No wallowing over here.

And tomorrow the Midsummer celebrations begin in full-force, culminating in an all-day drunk fest on Friday. Though I think based on my last experience, I may sit this one out. And in Sweden when you sit it out you REALLY sit it out. There's no such thing as even 1 drink with a zero-tolerance drinking and driving law. And on Midsummer? You are guaranteed to get stopped by the cops and always guaranteed a breathalyzer.

There was a birthday party today. I had a morsel of cake. But just a morsel. Apart from that, the past 2 days have seen good brekkies, lunches and dinners with some apples thrown in for good measure. And a lot of butt blasting and ab crunching. Dare I say it's working? Even with the scales trying to get me down..or maybe that's up, I feel a notable difference in my tight-waisted exercise pants. Not so tight around the waist.

So I'm winning some and losing some. Next week will see my chasing the little man around the local pool every morning for the next 6 weeks and hopefully, a daily bike ride to the watering hole. Need to get a bike is all.

So there you have it folks. How are you all doing? Talk to me. Thanking you all for your continued support and encouragement. Love you all! xo

Riding the Bus

The PORCELAIN BUS that is...urghhhhhhh. If you're not familiar with that reference, Google it or read on.

Saturday night! Finally, after more than 6 long months, I get let out of the cage! Hubby and I are all set to attend a 40th birthday party celebration for a dear friend. And the care of our little guy is being entrusted to two cousins of a dear friend of ours. He couldn't be in better hands...well unless those hands were familial. So, no guilt!

We get there. We sit. I consume my first plastic glass of pink wine. Big party=Cheap wine (for the most part). From a box. But tasty cheap wine. We're meeting old friends. Making new friends. I'm hugging babies, charming grandparents, laughing at jokes. Telling jokes! I'm rocking my $200 black rocker studded tank top, black tights (yup, you read that right) and high-heeled black shoe boots. I have "Mommy, you have pretty black eyes" eyes, the hair is straight, the nails are fushia. I'm killin' it. Damn, I feel good (and I knew that I would). I'm still avoiding the chocolate cake after a plate of meat. You know when you're on your like 4th glass of cheap wine and the world is your oyster? Well at least you believe it is and you've convinced yourself everyone you meet believes you believe it and they, in turn, believe in you?

And then invincible, incredible YOU polishes off a gin mixed with some form of energy drink. And you're 33 years old. You don't MIX your drinks. But amazingly, because your rocker chick outfit is obviously hiding a tight spandex unitard with the letter "S" emblazoned on the front, you are still feeling awesome with a capital A. So you head on over to the drink table and discover a bottle of VODKA. Remember the drink you said you wanted to drink before you even got to the party cuz it was lower in carbs than the rest of the drinks? And it says "Absolut", which is not-so-code for "Absolutely!" Down the hatch she goes.

And from that point on, the rest of the evening gets fuzzier and slurier (new word alert). Auto pilot quickly turns to mayday and before you know it, Miss Energetic (which was what I was voted in high school) has her chin to her chest and is silently pleading for the party to stop bloody moving. At some point, you get escorted by your "dissapointed" husband to the back of a cab with some friends. You hear voices and people directing words at you. You.need.the.car.to.stop.moving. Relief. The friends have been dropped off somewhere and you're on your way home. Minutes now. Your hubby's phone rings. It's them. They left something in the cab. You have to turn around and GO BACK. You're dying. You want to raise any part of your body in protest but you've lost the ability to move and worse, you're afraid to open your mouth.

This is the time that can be likened to the time between asking for the epidural and when the nurse arrives with the epidural. If you know what that's like.

I managed to call the girls to let them know we would be there in 30 seconds, to be ready and to say that I was in bad shape. They left. We entered. I fell into the bathroom to hug my best inanimate object friend. I shared all of my drinks with her. Actually, I gave all of them to her. Every last drop and then some. Because I'm so nice.

I can't remember the last time her and I got together. But it was a LONG ass time ago.

So you can imagine my WAJ for Saturday night and all day Sunday, right?
Saturday night was a given.
Sunday was my pity party. Actually it was also a kid's birthday party that I managed to show up for with hubby and little man in tow. Pancakes for brekky, handfuls of candy, fruit and birthday cake for lunch and spaghetti for dinner. Exercise? ha!

But today I brushed myself off. It's all about the bounce back right?
Brekky: Egg salad
Lunch: Tuna salad + Green salad
Dinner: Weiners + Green salad
Exercise: A swift kick in the arse with the Butt Blaster and Ab work-out.

Comments: She may have been down for a day but she's back. And I feel like an idiot. 33 years old, married, mother, stepmother, pillar of the community (k, that's not true), and the next morning I wake up to find my clothes scattered around the house and a bathroom that needs cleaning and a "dissapointed husband" (like he's never been there...ha!) and spotted, somewhat embarassing, memories of my big evening out. LOL.